He took out the jug, gripping it manfully and setting it on the floor. Humming to himself, he dragged a chair over to get cups from the cabinet. One day he’d be as tall as Coop and wouldn’t need to stand on a chair. He leaned forward on his toes.

The crash and the howl had Coop leaping up, rapping his knee hard against the desk. Papers scattered as he raced out of the office and into the kitchen.

Keenan was still howling. A chair was overturned, juice was glugging cheerfully onto the floor and the refrigerator was wide open. Coop splashed through the puddle and scooped Keenan up.

“Are you hurt? What’d you do?” When his only answer was another sob, he stood Keenan on the kitchen table and searched for blood. He imagined gaping wounds, broken bones.

“I fell down.” Keenan wriggled back into Coop’s arms.

“Okay, it’s okay. Did you hit your head?”

“Nuh-uh.” With a sniffle, Keenan waited for the kisses he expected after a hurt. “I fell on my bottom.” Keenan’s lip poked out. “Kiss it.”

“You want me to kiss your— Come on, kid, you’re joking.”

The lip trembled, another tear fell. “You gotta kiss where it hurts. You gotta, or it won’t get better.”

“Oh, man.” Flummoxed, Coop dragged a hand through his hair. He was desperately relieved that no blood had been spilled, but if anyone, anyone, found out what he was about to do, he’d never live it down. He turned Keenan around and made a kissing noise in the air. “Does that do it?”

“Uh-huh.” Keenan knuckled his eyes, then held out his arms. “Will you pick me up?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t feel as ridiculous as he’d expected when the boy’s arms went around his neck. “Okay now?”

With his head resting on Coop’s shoulder, he nodded. “I didn’t mean to do it. I spilled all the juice.”

“No big deal.” Hardly realizing he did so, Coop turned his head to brush his lips over Keenan’s hair. Something was shifting inside him, creaking open.

“You aren’t mad at me? You won’t go away?”

“No.” What the hell was going on? Coop wondered as unexplored and unexpected emotions swirled inside him. “No, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you,” Keenan said, with the simple ease of a child.

Coop closed his eyes and wondered how a grown man was supposed to handle falling for a four-year-old boy.

Well, here she was, Zoe thought as she stood at the bottom of the steps leading to Coop’s apartment. All she had to do was go upstairs, open the door and start an affair. Her stomach clenched.

Silly to be nervous, she told herself, and climbed the first step. She was a normal woman with normal needs. If her emotions were too close to the surface, she would deal with it. It was much more difficult to be hurt when you had no expectations.

She’d had expectations once, but she knew better now.

This was simply a physical attraction between two single, healthy people. She’d nearly backed down a step before she forced herself to move forward. All the practical details had been seen to. Her son was safely tucked away for the night at his sleepover. She’d arranged for birth control—that wasn’t an oversight she would make again.